


Always a Novice

by macca42



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Death, Feels, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macca42/pseuds/macca42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altaïr is back to being a novice and is on his quest for redemption. He is back in Jerusalem and it hasn't even been two weeks since Kadar was killed so Malik is still recovering and Altaïr has to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always a Novice

**Author's Note:**

> Hey whomever is reading this! Please excuse me for this is my first work on this website ever so it might turn out weird. Please leave some critique in the comments! I'm always looking to improve!
> 
> -macca_simmons

The hot sun baked all that it hit in the dusty streets of Jerusalem. The templar numbers now dwindled as Altaïr had gone on an anger and guilt induced killing spree. Normally coming back sweaty and bloodstained to a cool, incense scented bureau was welcoming, but now it was just reopening a fresh wound to more torment.

He dropped down through into the courtyard and splashed his face off with water to rid himself from the blood and sweat collected from that assassination mission. He turned from the small fountain and cautiously and solemnly walked into the bureau that now belonged to the Dai, Malik. This was his area and although he was instructed to enter to return the feather, he knew he wasn't welcome here.

"Back to being a novice I see Altaïr?" Malik snarled, instantly freezing the air between them. Why did those words bite so hard? Was it because he was humiliated and made a novice, even Malik held a higher rank than him now, or because he knew it was his fault for Kadar's death?

"I finished him, the feather is wetted with his blood. I'll leave." Altaïr said under his breath, this encounter for him was treading on thin ice, a wrong step and he could find himself on the ground with Malik's dagger pressed against his neck. Altaïr placed the feather on the Dai's table and began to leave up through the courtyard again. The anger and sorrow instantly filled the room as he tried to leave, lavender incense couldn't mask this.

"I thought for a long time about this." Malik practically whispered, although it was meant for Altaïr's ears. Altaïr halted and slowly turned to face Malik, the least he could do for Malik was to let him yell at him until he was content. "I had the ride from Masyaf to Jerusalem to think. I knew you were coming too, I've seen you once already…yet I still don't even know what to say to you."

"Malik, I-I tried to break back through the wall but DeSable and his Templars had collapsed it, I barely escaped myself."

He had done it.

He let his ego control what he said when he was at fault.

"You tried to break back through?" Malik somberly said before taking on a much darker tone. "You didn't try hard enough. I can prove it too, look."

Malik pulled the navy coat with the folded sleeve down to reveal his assassin robes with the sleeve torn off, not the ones from Solomon's temple, but stained with fresh blood, beneath that was the bandaged stub of Malik's arm...what remained of it. Altaïr looked up from Malik's bloody bandages to his face, which was wet with tears.

"That is what I have left, it wasn't completely obliterated. Unlike Kadar."

Altaïr knew he would get chewed out worse than before now.

"Altaïr, if you had followed the creed, our simple creed, I would still be an assassin, I would still have my arm, I would still have my brother. Kad...Kadar and I should have left you when you killed that innocent man, but no, we followed our creed and your foolish judgement into DeSable's trap."

Altaïr wanted to protest, his ego did, it was being stripped from him just like his rank. He felt naked, he was a novice to Malik and every other assassin in the brotherhood, but more so a coward in Malik's eyes.

"Since you missed what happened let me fill you in."

"Malik you don't need to relive it." Altaïr tried to stop him, Malik was now the equivalent of an angry, runaway horse, to step in his path practically means certain death.

"What would you know...novice. After you confronted DeSable we both jumped down to support you even though it was certain death. He threw you through the wall and collapsed the scaffolding so Kadar and I had to attempt to fend off at least 20 well armed Templars. While you took your sweet time breaking out of the temple to return to Al Mualim, I was left for dead with my own brother. A templar scumbag had stabbed him through the chest. You rode home while I cradled my dying brother in my lap, telling him that we would make it out alive and told him I just needed him to be strong a while longer. While you rode into Masyaf, I took the apple from my brother's robes and left him there after the warmth slipped from his body. I could have brought him home to Masyaf but I had no strength to carry him. I rode home despite agony to deliver the apple as you reported us dead. That day I brought home three things. The apple, one of Kadar's throwing knives, and his cowl. It is all I have of him physically but I have memories. I would have more of him physically had you not broken every tenet of the creed. Your ego and carelessness killed my only brother!" By now Malik had tears streaming down his face, the pain was very much real.

"Malik..."

"You didn't bring home the apple, I didn't bring home the apple, Kadar brought home the apple."

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness."

"Good, you won't get it."

Altaïr knew he couldn't win Malik back now, he could never win him back, not like the casual competition that existed between the two before Solomon's Temple. This crushed him, no he couldn't be liked by everyone but he was the epicenter of Malik's pain.

"I'm sorry, I know everything was my doing and problem. Will forgiveness ever be an option?" These words felt sour on Altaïr's tongue, he had been spoiled by his ego. When had he ever asked for forgiveness?

"I'll forgive you when I feel ready, it hasn't even been two weeks so don't expect it soon. I will think about it when you are more...ready. I cannot accept any apology when you're a novice and will be for a long time."


End file.
